Playing With Fire
by xxPennyweather-Muffinfacexx
Summary: Your hair," she whispered. "It's like...playing with fire." He smiled against her lips. Fred/Hermione, a bit OOC. Starts in 4th year. Full summary inside! R and R!
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi everyone!**

**I have started off with the part of the book at the end of the Yule Ball and the rest of this will be kind of my take on what SHOULD have happened in the rest of the Harry Potter series. AU, obviously because Fred will survive!!! YAY!**

**I thought for each chapter I would name a song that relates to the chapter. This chapter/prologue's song is…Playing With Fire, by the Rolling Stones.**

**Enjoy!**

"Playing with fire," Hermione murmured against his lips, adjusting her position on the couch, edging closer to Fred.

"Hm?" Fred asked, his hands resting on the small of her back and the back of her thin pale neck.

"Oh," Hermione felt embarrassed. Had she really said that out loud? Yep. "Nothing…just," She had two fistfuls of his red hair in her small hands. "Your hair…it's like…"

Fred smiled against her lips and Hermione was glad for someone who understood her so completely.

"Can we get back to kissing?" He mumbled, with his hands on her waist.

"Sure," Hermione sank into the blissful abyss of his kiss, the world seeming to stop as she was in Fred's arms.

This was what it felt like, she thought. When you're with The One.

**Hope you like the way I started this off!**

**SparklesLikeADiamond!**


	2. An Angel's Kiss

**A/N: Hey, hope you like!**

**The song for this chapter is…Trouble, Pink.**

"Next time there is a ball, ask me before someone else does and not as a last resort!" Hermione Granger yelled.

As she leapt up the stairs to the girl's dormitories Ron, Harry and every single other occupant in the room stared after, mouths open like goldfish.

F+H

Fred Weasley was stunned. It wasn't like they had never seen Hermione yell before, it was more like they had never seen her yell about something so…_girlie _and non-work related as a _ball._

Fred was in a pretty bad mood himself. He had come into the Gryffindor common room and watched the whole performance after Angelina, his date for the ball, had gone off with George, he wasn't sure whether it was intentional or not, but one thing he _was_ sure of was that she would be snogging George in a broom closet right now. Whether she knew it was George or not.

So basically, his girlfriend was off snogging his twin brother, while he had to watch Ron make an idiot of himself as well as Hermione in the space of two seconds and all with one stupid remark with one remark that is so typical of Ron.

Fred sighed; all in all, he thought the Yule Ball had been way more trouble than it was worth.

F+H

Hermione entered the girl's dormitories hesitantly. She hadn't exactly been discreet about her feelings for the whole Yule Ball fiasco. So no doubt, Parvati and lavender would bombard her with probing, irritating and _girlie_ questions about her and Ron and Krum and their _feelings_. Then rumours would spread (even more than usual) about the Golden Trio and how Hermione Granger was 'Fraternising With The Enemy' as Ron had so jealously put it in typical Ron fashion.

Ugh. She was so annoyed.

Hermione reluctantly stepped through the door and sure enough, all conversations came to a standstill as the gossiping girls whirled around to see who had entered. Hermione quickly changed into her red flannel pyjamas and willed every girl in the room to go back to what they were doing.

Why did Ron have to be so irritating all the time? And what was with the double standards? He was allowed to have a man crush on him, drool whenever Krum walked past and desperately crave his autograph. But Hermione wasn't even allowed to go to the Yule Ball with him.

Hermione snuggled into the comforting covers of her four poster bed and tried to ignore the whispered conversations going on around her. All in all, she thought the Yule Ball had been, well, pretty craptastic actually.

Hermione lay awake for hours and hours. Thoughts about damn Ronald Weasley and his damned hypocrisy kept worming their way into her head and she just couldn't shut her mind off.

She lay fidgeting until she couldn't take it anymore. She pulled on her white fluffy slippers, a grey sweatshirt, and made her way down the stairs as quietly as possible.

A small fire was what was left of the roaring fire from last night and Hermione missed its warmth dearly.

It was almost pitch black in the common room and she bashed into a few armchairs on the way through.

One in particular that contained Fred Weasley.

Fred groaned as he was roughly jolted back to consciousness as his armchair was shoved sideways. He stretched out a crick in his neck with his eyes closed. When he did open them he could make out the slight shape of someone standing over him. "_Lumos_," he whispered and the contrite form of Hermione Granger jumped into view.

"Sorry Fred," She said apologetically. She flopped into an armchair and Fred noticed how pretty she looked. Well, her hair was a little lopsided and she had pillow creases on her left cheek, but she looked pretty in a dishevelled kind of way.

"S'okay," He replied amiably, feeling a blush redden his cheeks as he sat in the company of a very pretty girl. He shook his head then, Fred and Hermione? It just wasn't plausible, he told himself even as he admired her wavy brown hair and glowing brown eyes. He was a trouble-maker and she liked, well she liked …_school._

"Sorry," She repeated, seeing as she couldn't think of anything original to say, which was odd, for Hermione anyway. As the minimal firelight and wand light flickered over his face she realised he looked almost…hot. Which was weird, because, you know, she had known Fred for a while now and Fred and Hermione? It wasn't plausible, she told herself, it just wouldn't happen.

So. Awkward. "So," Hermione said out loud, trying to demolish the heavy silence that hung between them like a tangible thing. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah," Fred looked mollified. "I couldn't sleep. Erm, but then I did."

Hermione nodded, she felt her head bobbing on her neck like an emu and she tried to stop. What was wrong with her?

Fred nodded at the portrait hole, "I'm waiting for George and Angelina to get back."

"Um," Hermione was confused. "I though you went with…"

"I did," Fred interrupted darkly.

Oh. Gotcha.

"How did your evening go?" Fred asked, suddenly chipper.

Hermione crossed her arms, "Was that a _joke?"_

"Sorry," Fred shrugged. "Weasley twin." As if that explained everything. Which, sadly, it did.

Hermione gave a small smile, and then pulled her legs up underneath her.

Fred just looked at her, "Sorry, about, well you know."

Hermione felt tears rise to her yes as if on cue, she put her fists in her eyes, trying to stop the teardrops that were determined to spill over. In a muffled voice, she spoke. "He just, oh, …he's so…_Ron."_

"I know that exact feeling," Fred replied with wise nod of his head as he stared deeply into the dying embers of the fire. He felt almost calm until he turned and saw tears streaming down Hermione's face.

"Oh," Fred gasped. "Hermione. I. Oh Jesus, I hate it when I make girls cry."

"You've done it before then?" She asked with a hiccupping sob/laugh.

"Oh yeah," Fred got up and awkwardly put a comforting warm arm around her as he perched on the arm of her chair. "They weep with joy when I deign to grace them with my awesomely amazing presence."

"Oh?" Hermione sad, playfully hitting him on the chest with the back of her hand. Her tears were drying flaky tracks on her alabaster pale cheeks and she wiped them off.

"It's a curse," Fred sighed. "Having beautiful women throw themselves at your feet with no self respect, all wanting a taste of that famed Weasley mojo. Except Ron." Fred continued matter-of-factly. "I think he's defective."

Hermione snorted. "Oh, right."

"_Anyway,"_ Fred said, mock affront in his tone. His voice softened as he continued. "I f you need anything I'm her, a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on. I have all the anatomy in full working order." He spread his hands wide.

Hermione let that one hang in the air for a while and Fred felt his cheeks redden. "I just meant…well….ugh."

Hermione smiled, " I think I'll go for a walk."

"Company?"

"No thanks," She had a lot of thinking to do.

"Okay," He flopped back into his chair, feeling almost embarrassed. Not totally embarrassed, because, hello? Weasley twin.

F+H

Hermione clambered out of the portrait hole, feeling embarrassed. Even Fred Weasley was being nice. Just because he _pitied _her. Great. They had been almost friends beforehand, but then she had to go and cry in front of him, ruining everything. Ugh.

She wandered past the dark library that, when empty, exuded an air of hopelessness that Hermione could almost taste in the air. She strolled past another two classrooms until she heard the footsteps coming her way. Filch

Crap.

She looked back the way she had come but the corridor stretched for what looked like an eternity and she wouldn't make it in time. She spun around frantically as the footsteps coming her way became louder and seemed to morph into a different sound. It seemed to be saying _tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…_

As she started to back down the corridor a strong hand yanked her into a broom closet. "_Lumos," _A familiar voice whispered and the grinning form of Fred Weasley flickered into view.

"Aaaagh," Hermione sighed and stifled an almost scream,, a hand on her chest, trying to slow her beating heart. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry." If possible, Fred's grin grew even wider if that was possible.

"What are you doing here?"

It was at this point that Fred felt sheepish. "Well, I just wanted to make sure you didn't get caught by Filch."

Hermione relaxed against the door of the closet. "Gee," She replied sarcastically. "Thanks,"

"No problem," Fred smiled sweetly.

They stood in silence as Hermione grew increasingly more aware of the tight confines of the very small closet. Hermione and Fred stood only inches apart and she felt the comforting heat radiating off of him, as well as his deep even breathing.

Fred continued, "I suggest you head back to the common room,"

Hermione nodded, he placed his hands atop her narrow shoulders and kissed her quickly on the lips. It was like the wind against her face. There one second, gone the next. An angel's kiss. "You'll be okay," and Hermione knew he wasn't just talking about the trip back to the common room.

Hermione remembered the kiss as Fred slipped out of the closet, creating a light stirring of the air when he left., she slid down to the floor, Fred had never acted like _that_ before, she mused, feeling slightly dizzy.

Just as she smiled goofily to herself she heard Fred swear outside, "Shit!"

Hermione rushed out there at top speed, what if he was hurt? And came face to face with the leering caretaker, Filch. "Shit," Hermione repeated, though a lot quieter than Fred.

"Language, children," He leered unpleasantly.

Hermione sighed, crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. God, this creep took way too much pleasure in punishing students.

Filch dredged up a piece of grubby parchment and a squished quill along with a bottle of ink from the very recesses of his deep trench coat pockets. "Right," He grinned gleefully. Offences…Fraternisation with the opposite sex past curfew."

Protest arose, Fred and Hermione both, but Hermione wasn't sure whether it was because they hadn't been fraternising or because as a punishment that was a cop out.

Filch chuckled, "Attitude." He scribbled on the piece of parchment. "Now, why are you illegally wandering the halls at night?"

"Well," Fred stalled. "I was, erm, sleepwalking and, um, Hermione wanted to make sure I didn't hurt myself on a suit of armour. Dangerous stuff, this." Fred leant on a suit of armour and crashed into the wall with a loud clang. He jumped up, dusting himself off. "See what I mean?"

Filch stayed silent. "But, ah," Fred continued, "no fraternising here."

"Nope," Hermione reinforced. "None at all." She nodded vigorously.

"Hm," Filch eyed them with his beady eyes, then put pen to paper. "Lying," He murmured.

"I wasn't lying," Fred argued hotly.

"Back chat," Filch continued.

"Back chat and attitude are practically the same thing," Hermione pointed out coolly.

Fred was shocked and slightly proud. Hermione being rude to a figure of authority. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, that were in full working order. The he felt slightly guilty for converting Miss Goody Two Shoes to the religion of trouble makers.

"Right," Filch was angry now and Fred felt his almost good mood dissipate immediately. "What House are you in?"

"You know what House we're in!" Hermione and Fred snapped in unison.

"Come with me, you bloody misfits," Filch grumbled.

They followed him sombrely, as if walking to their own funeral. In actuality they were walking towards Professor McGonagall' office. This was almost as bad, or the same thing.

Filch pushed them through the door, "Wait here," He ordered gruffly.

"Shit," Hermione squeaked, as soon as the door shut with a click.

"It's alright," Fred soothed. "McGonagall loves me really."

Hermione gave him a look that killed conversation. Sorry, was that supposed to make her feel _better._

Then McGonagall and Filch arrived. McGonagall wore a fluffy emerald robe that was much too big for her, it made her look almost fragile, especially with her silver hair flowing freely over her shoulders.

"Well," Her voice was as prim as ever.

Filch interrupted, "A term's worth of detention is what I reckon."

"_Thank_ you, Mr. Filch!" she snapped. She avoided looking at him. "You may go."

Filch mumbled and left in annoyance.

"Professor," Fred said grandly. "How are you this fine evening? May I offer you a biscuit." He picked up McGonagall's own tin from her desk and offered it around.

"Mr. Weasley," She said firmly.

Fred meekly lowered the biscuit tin.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, no real surprise to see you here, but Miss Granger!"

"Sorry, Ma'am," She whispered.

McGonagall consulted the sheet Filch had given her, touching it as little as possible. "Were you two," she squinted at the page. "Ahem, fraternising?"

"No, no, no," Fred and Hermione rushed to deny anything.

She appraised them over her spectacles. "It says you were in a broom closet together."

"Uh, yeah." Fred answered. "That part is true."

"But nothing happened," Hermione insisted. "Half the stuff on that list isn't even true."

McGonagall stared at her.

"Okay," Hermione admitted meekly. "Attitude might be." Hermione read the list upside down. "But I did _not_ call his mother a leathery hag."

McGonagall gave a hint of a smile. "Be that as it may, I think you tow would benefit form a term's worth of Saturday detentions. At nine o'clock you will report here and I will assign you your duties. Understood?"

"Okay," Both agreed, it wasn't like they really had a choice.

"You may go," The two students rose and McGonagall continued. "Miss Granger, a word?"

"Of course." Fred shut the door, mouthing, 'I'll wait.'

"I hear Krum is quite attached to you,"

"Oh well," Hermione blushed. That one came out of the blue.

"And you and Mr. Weasley seem very…friendly."

"Oh…"

"Now, I know as a young girl attention from older boys is flattering but don't get too caught up. You are very sensible and good, I would hate to see you throw all that away. Watch out. I don't know what you were doing in that broom closet-" Hermione opened her mouth. "-and nor do I _want_ to, but be careful. Fred Weasley can be a tad, well, shall we say…flighty?"

"Oh!" Hermione repeated. "I didn't, we didn't…"

"You may go," McGonagall dismissed her.

Heroine let out a deep breath as she left the room.

"What did she say?" Fred pushed off his spot on the wall and fell into step with her.

"She…" There was a shuffling and a clanging as Filch not-so-agilely leapt out from behind a suit of armour.

"Aha!" He shouted.

"You caught us already, Filch." Fred sounded bored.

Filch crawled back behind the suit of armour, grumbling.

"So?" Fred probed.

"She thinks we're dating," Hermione worked to keep her tone neutral. "She thinks I'm dating you _and _Krum."

Fred snorted.

"This is the best part," she continued, only slightly hurt that Fred thought the idea of them dating was impossible. She knew that. "She told me to," Hermione did finger quotation marks, "'Be careful,' because you're 'flighty.'" More quotation marks.

They climbed through the portrait hole and Fred finally spoke. " I should be grateful she associated me with such a beautiful girl."

Hermione opened her mouth and he put his finger on her lips. She stayed quiet and he replaced his fingers with his lips, light as a breath of wind that smelt of peppermints and boy.

"'Night, Hermione," He said softly.

"'Night, Fred,"

He leapt up the stairs and she tip toed into the girl's dormitories and sank into bed, emitting a giddy sigh.

Oh my goodness, Hermione Granger, acting like an actual teenager, it just wasn't possible.


	3. I Smell Books For Fun

A/N: hey, this chapter is considerably shorter than the other one because I am going away for a week and wanted to post one more before I left.

**Enjoy!**

Hermione was dead tired. She rolled out of bed making a hollow thud on the floor as her face landed in her sliver stiletto from last night.

Ugh.

Last night. Last night she had gotten a term's worth of detention. Last night she had had a massive fight with Ron. Last night she had cried in front of Fred Weasley. Last night Fred Weasley had kissed her. _Twice._

She lifted herself up off the floor and looked around. The other girls were all asleep. Cool. A clean bathroom.

F+H

Fred stretched out in bed, grinning like an idiot. Hermione Granger.

He had _kissed_ Hermione Granger. _Twice._ Admittedly, they hadn't really been kisses and she hadn't really kissed back, but still.

The fact that she hadn't broken Fred's nose was a modern miracle. Fred hummed to himself as he jumped out of bed and did a little dance into the bathroom.

George gave an amused snort and Fred leapt three feet into the air. "What are you doing?" Fred gasped.

"I could ask the same thing of you," George chortled, holding his sides. Seeing his twin brother do the grapevine across the room, plus his own arm movements was freaking hilarious.

"Nothing," Fred said, trying to hold onto his last shred of dignity.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you kissed Hermione Granger, would it now?" George asked, pretending to be completely oblivious.

"How did you know about that?" Fred said aghast. They were twins, but they didn't share a telepathic bond did they? Maybe it only worked one way. Well, man, that sucked.

George dispelled his freaky telepathy theories when he said, "Uh, maybe because you skipped in here-yes, my brother _skipping-_singing, 'I kissed Hermione Granger, I kissed Hermione Granger.'"

"Okay, okay," Fred hissed, looking warily over at the other sleeping boys in the room.

"What's happening?" Lee Jordan asked, sitting up and trying to flatten his serious case of bed head.

"Fred kissed Hermione Granger," George said to Lee matter-of-factly.

"Oh," Lee said.

Silence fell over the trio for a total of thirty seconds. Then Lee ventured to speak, "You mean the uptight one that your little brother is totally in love with."

"Yup," confirmed George.

Oh shit, Fred thought. He had completely forgotten about Ron and his 'little' crush on Hermione.

"And," George said. "She's practically going out with Krum."

"Okay," Fred snapped, waving his hand. "You are not helping." He walked, not skipped to the bathroom and shut the door.

"Ah shit," he leant against the locked door and sighed.

Well, that was it, wasn't it? He couldn't go out with her now.

Poor Ron, he was the youngest and never got anything first. Fred couldn't exactly steal his girl as well. Damn, well, he'd have to start dropping hints about Ron into their conversations just when he wanted to kiss her.

Grr.

F+H

Hermione stared out the window into the chilly grey horizon and pulled on her warmest coat before going down to breakfast.

Rounding the corner and going into the Great Hall Hermione saw few students, and only one at the Gryffindor table. That one, of course, was the one and only Fred Weasley.

God, Fate's a bitch.

"Hey," Hermione said.

"Morning," Fred said, unusually subdued for a Weasley twin.

She pulled over the Daily Prophet as she sat down across from him and a plate of pancakes appeared.

Hermione tutted.

"What?" Fred said, uncharacteristically sharp.

Well, Hermione wasn't going to lose an opportunity to spew facts about, um, S.P.E.W. "It's Boxing Day,"

"So?"

"Who made these pancakes?"

"Yes, Hermione," Fred sighed, putting his share of the paper down. "We all know that the house elves never get a day off. You know what? They like it that way." He finished wearily.

"If you could just spare a Knut?" Hermione wheedled, grabbing a moneybag from the deep dark recesses of her coat pocket.

"No," Fred said. God, she knew his family's money situation. Admittedly she didn't know about the Ludo Bagman-leprechaun gold situation, but even so, money was a delicate subject for the Weasley's. "I cannot spare a Knut for your stupid Vomit Club or whatever it is." He banged his fist on the table, emphasising his point and stormed out of the Great Hall, just as George and Lee walked in.

They stopped next to Fred, "Where have you two been?" he snarled.

"My God, he sounds like my mum." George said in an undertone to Lee just as Fred wailed, "My God, I sound like my mum!" and fled the Hall.

"On the other hand," George said conversationally. "I think Ron only has to worry about Krum now." As he saw Krum talking in earnest to 'Her-my-oh-ninny.'

F+H

"I will donate to, how you say, spew," Krum said, holding out an unusually shiny Galleon.

Hermione flushed. "Oh, thanks Viktor."

He began talking and Hermione stood, almost knocking over the stupid, argument starting pancakes as she did. "Sorry, I have to go." She murmured as she too fled the Great Hall.

She wandered the corridors aimlessly before ending up in the library, completely accidentally.

She strolled over to the back shelf and pulled off a dusty volume off the shelf. She inhaled deeply, loving the strong smell of parchment swirling in her nostrils. She opened the book and sank into a chair, revelling in the crackling of the yellowing pages. She took another deep breath, moving the spine under her nose, just as a certain red head rounded the corner.

"You smell books for fun?" Fred asked teasingly as Hermione pulled the book guiltily away from her face.

"Yes." Hermione answered shortly. Her voice seemed to make the room infinitely colder and Fred suppressed a shiver.

"Okay," He drew the word out. "Look I just wanted…" Fred lost his train of thought then. He suddenly noticed how gorgeous she was and said stupidly, "You're really pretty."

"You're an idiot," She arched an eyebrow.

"That may be," his lips twitched. To finish strong because he was a Weasley twin and that's all you need to know, he winked. "See you in detention."

Hermione rolled her eyes as he left the library and suppressed a smile.

**Ciao!!**


	4. I Love Tom Riddle

**A/N: Hi, this chapter actually has a plot and is way less fluffy than the others. Don't let that put you off!**

**Review, please!!!**

Hermione sighed. It was seven o'clock and she had just woken up, sighing happily. It was warmish; the sun was streaming in through the window, she felt good and was so ready to start a fun-filled day of studying.

Oh no.

She had detention with Fred Weasley.

"Bloody hell," Hermione said wearily, wrapping her robe around her and sliding awkwardly out of bed.

"Shut up," Lavender mumbled, chucking a pillow towards the opposite side of the room to Hermione as Hermione rummaged through her trunk.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered, making a face at the back of Lavender's head.

Two minutes later, as if it had just sunk in, Lavender sat up in bed. "Where are you going?" She asked in an accusing tone.

"Detention," Hermione admitted grudgingly, grabbing her jacket off the foot of Parvati's bed.

"Detention?" Parvati sat straight up in bed and Hermione jumped, feeling like a hunted gazelle in one of those National Geographic documentaries.

"This detention wouldn't be with a certain Weasley boy, now, would it?" lavender gave her a wink as if to say, _it's okay, we're all friends here._

"Rumours have been circulating, darling." Parvati smiled slowly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said falteringly. "Which Weasley boy do you mean?"

"Well," Lavender said conspiratorially. "_We _all thought you and _Ron_had a thing going on. But it was said that you and one of the Weasley twins had a lover's tiff in the Great Hall this morning. Which one was it?"

Parvati answered. "Tall, handsome and funny. I think it was Fred."

"Yeah," Lavender pondered. "Maybe she has a thing going on with Fred _and _Ron. Naughty girl."

Parvati giggled. "But can you leave Harry for me, Miss Scarlet Woman? Mmm, _delicious."_

Hermione rolled her eyes, these girls were sick. But how did _they _know about her and Fred? Not that there was anything to know, of course.

Down in the common room Ginny was curled up next to the fire in her pyjamas. "Hey Hermione," she greeted her softly. "Where are you off to?"

"Detention with your brother," Hermione grumbled.

"Ron?" She asked. It wasn't exactly like Ron to get detention. Or, correction, maybe it was, but she usually knew what for.

"No, Fred," Hermione admitted.

"Fred?" Ginny asked incredulously. "What the bloody hell do you have detention with Fred for?"

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink, "Well, um, I think Filch called it, um, uh, fraternising with the opposite sex after hours."

Even though the thought of her brother and Hermione doing _anything_ made her feel vaguely sick, she was excited to hear the gossip. She patted the seat beside her invitingly. "Do tell."

"I can't," Hermione had a gloomy face on. "Detention."

"Oh right," Ginny's face fell. As Hermione left she yelled, "Don't think you're getting out of this, young lady."

"I know I won't be, you crazy muppet!" Hermione yelled cheerily as she climbed out the portrait hole.

Waiting outside McGonagall's office Hermione sighed. She was probably the only juvenile delinquent to be early for detention. Ever.

Just then Fred skidded around the corner, red in the face and puffing hard. "Is she here yet?" He asked, a little bit of panic showing in his tone.

"No," Hermione said, her voice only a little warmer than yesterday. She was still mad, remember, and boy can Hermione Granger hold a grudge.

"Okay." Fred leant up against the wall and the awkwardness seemed to flood into the corridor. He shifted stiffly, coughing quietly.

Professor McGonagall walked around the corner five tension filled minutes later, "Sorry I'm late," She puffed, straightening her glasses. "Now, wands please."

Fred handed his over straight away, clearly used to the procedure. Hermione, less enthusiastically handed her's over with a grimace.

"Now, you two will be cleaning the Trophy Room, you will do this for two hours every Saturday until it is spick and span. Is that clear?"

Fred and Hermione both nodded.

"Come."

Ten minutes later they were standing in the Trophy room, staring at each other. Fred waved the spray bottle of Lemon Fresh, "Shall we start then?"

"Definitely," Hermione agreed, taking up a sponge and dragging the bucket of warm soapy water over to the first cabinet.

The spent an hour in silence, wiping grime away from old trophies. Hermione held up a Gryffindor House Cup plaque. "Harry's parents." She said. "This must have been the year they were Head Boy and Girl."

"Let's see," Fred asked, coming over to look.

Hermione handed it to him and kept looking on the same shelf. "The Award for Academic Excellence," she read out. "Lily Evans and Remus Lupin."

Fred picked one up. "The Award for Transfiguration." He read. "James Potter and Sirius Black." Fred's eyes lit up. "Sirius made out he was such a bad boy, wait till I tell him what we saw."

Then, all thoughts of cleaning swept from their minds, they continued to prowl about the room, squinting at plaques and reading out names excitedly when one of them found a familiar name.

Hermione progressively moved further back into history. She was now up to the era of Tom Riddle, though of course she didn't know he Voldemort yet.

Fred was looking over her shoulder, his sharp eyes scanning the shelves for anything of interest. "Hermione," He gasped, laying a hand on her shoulder and rotating her a little bit to see what he was seeing. "The Outstanding Excellence Award," he read out. "Awarded to Tom Marvolo Riddle and Violet Jean Granger."

Hermione smiled weakly sure that it was just a coincidence. Fed however, had other ideas. "Isn't your middle name Jean?"

"Yeah," She replied, not wanting to get too excited. "But it's probably just…"

She trailed off when she saw the picture. It was sepia toned and a little grainy, though you could see clearly what it was. A tall boy with a slightly arrogant smile had his arm lovingly draped around a smaller girl. The girl looked exactly like Hermione. She had the same brown eyes, the same bushy hair, but her face had less worry ingrained on it and she was smiling and laughing, her arm around the boy's waist. The love between them was apparent, and just looking at the photo made Hermione's eyes well up with tears, for she knew somehow, in her heart, that this laughing and seemingly invincible girl was no longer alive. That Violet Jean Granger had somehow died and this was the last remnant of her fractured life that she had left behind. She placed the photo on the shelf, facing down, feeling that she, a girl of the modern world with no concept of real love, should not be witness to that kind of love that seemed etched upon their faces.

"Do you know what this means?" Fred asked, his eyes shining. "You may not be a Muggle!"

Hermione grinned at him, still a little shell-shocked.

"Wait till Malfoy finds out." Fred laughed evilly.

Just then the door swung open to reveal none other than Dumbledore. "Wait until Mr. Malfoy finds out about what, Mr Weasley?"

"Look at this, sir!" Fred hurried over. "Hermione may not be a Muggle after all."

"Ah." Dumbledore did not seem too happy about this. He took the photo from Fred and then looked up at them both. "Come up to my office, if you will."

"Of course."

Up in Dumbledore's office, he sat behind his desk with a grave expression upon his age-old face. "You have," He started solemnly. "Stumbled upon an important piece of history."

He stood and began pacing around the room, "have you ever wondered, Miss Granger, why you are so good at magic? Ever wondered, how you could possible be a Muggle? Ever wondered, about your ability over a pureblood's, such as Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione sat in silence, extremely confused about what was going on.

"You Miss Granger, have the purest blood of anyone at this school."

"Excuse me?" Poor Dumbledore, he's finally gone crazy.

"Purer than Mr Weasley's here," Fred looked at her and they exchanged a loaded glance. "Purer than Draco Malfoy's even."

"I don't understand," Fred said.

"Neither do I." Hermione said.

"Let me tell you a story." Dumbledore said. "In our world," he began, and his voice took on the quality of a storyteller. "We have our own mythology. No one, not even I a few years ago, knew whether it is true or not, but it is there in the background and almost every one knows about it."

"Sorry," Hermione said. She was very observant. "You say knew."

"Yes," Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Knew. A few million years ago a girl was created by the Goddess of witchcraft herself. The Goddess of witchcraft was known as Helena. She created this girl in her image, and her name was Violet Jean."

"But," Hermione started. "That photo was taken…."

"Let me finish," he held up a hand. "Violet Jean had immense powers of magic, she could do magic without a wand, and create feats I have never in my wildest dreams imagined. One thing that was her downfall, in the end, was her pride."

Hermione's face was stricken, she was proud, she was overtly so.

"Violet was not arrogant, nor did she hate those with less than pure blood. She was immortal. She reached the age of seventeen and her age froze, seventeen forever. Millenniums passed in which she would roam the world, a great legend. Later, Tom Riddle was at school, in his seventh year of schooling. Helena used to appear to her in visions. In one vision, Helena came to her and told her her plans. Helena had seen that Tom would accrue followers and go on to become the greatest Dark wizard of all time. Helena was content to let everything unfold as it would, but Violet disagreed. Yes, Violet was made in Helena's image, but she also had human qualities, which made her far more impulsive and loyal. Where a goddess knows that humans constantly make errors and that history always repeats itself, Violet wanted to stop Tom and save the world."

Hermione was crying now, so into this story that Dumbledore was telling. Fred sat there awkwardly, not even sure if he should be there.

"So," Dumbledore continued. "Violet came to Hogwarts, and joined in classes. She was amazing and all, students and teachers alike, were enamoured with her. As was Tom Riddle."

Dumbledore stopped for a moment and bowed his head. "They fell in love. Love was what brought Violet to her knees. Violet forgot her plans of saving all of mankind, she threw it all away to stay with this strangely compelling boy she had met."

Hermione opened her mouth but Dumbledore kept talking, "I know you think Helena cast a spell or something of the sort but it wasn't like that. Tom, despite his evil beliefs was a bright boy. They were very much alike and there seemed to be no end to their similarities. After school ended, they lived together.

"Because she wasn't aging, Violet had to tell Tom what she was. Tom had already begun recruiting, but love had blinded Violet to the changes in Tom Riddle. He accepted her but that night when she was sleeping he took her to the cellar and chained her up."

Now Dumbledore was crying. "The purest witch ever. A direct descendant of Helena and Riddle chained her up. She woke and was distraught and frightened. Violet was used to the outdoors after centuries of roaming free and she was driven almost insane by the claustrophobic cellar and the chains around her wrists and ankles."

"Why didn't she escape?" Fred asked curiously. "I mean she's like the greatest witch of all time."

"Because Tom had taken her blood."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked.

"He cut the inside of her arm, collected it and drank it."

"Why?" Hermione and Fred were aghast.

"Because he was a half blood who wanted nothing more than to be a pure blood wizard who could condemn Muggles and blood traitors and half bloods without feeling like a hypocrite."

Hermione let out a sob.

"He kept taking her blood and drinking, becoming more manic each time. Violet was weak, the only thing keeping her alive was the fact she was a supernatural being."

Fred looked appalled and rubbed Hermione's back. "Is this necessary?"

"If it wasn't I wouldn't be telling you." Dumbledore sighed. "Violet, collecting all of her strength broke free f her chains. She ran up the stairs only to find Tome waiting for her. She had nothing left in her, after breaking the chains. They duelled for thirty seconds before Tom killed her."

"But how am I here?" Hermione asked, pinching herself as if to check that she actually existed. "If I'm a descendant of Violet Jean, then…"

Gently, Dumbledore told her, "You aren't just a descendant of Violet Jean, Miss Granger. You _are_ Violet Jean."

**WOW!**

**Bombshell!**

**Review please, I hope you like it and don't stop reading this cause it's too heavy for you. It will get light and fluffy, promise!**


	5. Shorter Than A Weasley

**A/N: hello, enjoy and goodbye!**

Hermione sat back, stunned, she hadn't really taken all this in and she was just working on autopilot now. "But…"

"Helena felt immense remorse about how she had sat back and let things take their course. She watched the Potter's die, saw Harry survive and saw Riddle plotting. She knew he was coming to power again and so she created a circle of all the elements, and Violet Jean was reborn as a tiny baby girl. She was adopted into a family of dentists, and brought up as a Muggle."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"This time, you and Harry Potter will bring him down, for good."

Fred stood and tugged Hermione up. He felt immensely protective all of a sudden, "Thanks for the bedtime story, Professor, but Hermione needs to rest."

"Remember, Helena is watching over you, but I would feel more comfortable if Mr Weasley watched over you for a while. Voldemort may have got wind of you and we don't want anything remiss to happen to you."

Hermione felt a trait of Violet's come out. "I can take care of myself," She said proudly, drawing herself up to her full height, which compared to Fred was nothing. "I am, after all, the daughter of witchcraft herself."

Dumbledore gave a slight smile. "I want you to understand, this is a heavy burden. You have seen Harry try and cope with his, and yours may be greater, for Voldemort will not want his ex-lover back in the world. Now that I have told you about her heritage, you will start to change. This has never happened before so I'm playing it by ear."

Hermione nodded, uneasy at the fact she was an experiment.

"Good night," Dumbledore said. As they left, he softly said, so only Hermione could hear, "May the Goddess watch over you…Violet."

When they left the office, the faint grasp Hermione had on calm slipped and she broke down. She sobbed, sniffled, and messed up Fred's jumper, looking just slightly unattractive.

Fred put an arm protectively around her and led her to the Gryffindor tower. At the entrance to the dormitories he searched her face for an indication of what was to come. "Can I come to your room?" she said softly, her voice rasping slightly. "I cant…I cant…be alone."

Fred nodded and pulled her back into the comforting embrace. He sat her down on his bed and rummaged in his trunk for a minute. He came back with a pair of worn red flannel pyjamas. "They're the smallest I had," He said, looking at her uniform. "I thought you'd be more comfortable."

"Thanks." Hermione said, she was emotionally drained and simply took them, going into the bathroom.

She looked at herself in the mirror, as she got dressed. She didn't look any different, though her eyes seemed sadder and wiser. She rolled the sleeves and legs of the pants and top up, because they were still too long and inhaled the deeply comforting scent of Fred.

Hermione walked out and saw Fred sitting on the bed looking at a Quidditch magazine in just a pair of dark green boxers. His chest was pale, though very toned and her breath caught in her throat and her step actually faltered.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "It's just…"

"No problem," she said faintly. This wasn't the traditional relationship, in fact she wasn't even sure if it was a relationship and even if it was she didn't know what they were doing in his bed. In his dormitory.

She crawled onto the bed, and he threw the covers over them both. Fred let her snuggle down, and twirled a lock of hair around his finger. The rest of her chestnut coloured thick hair lay on his chest and he breathed slowly, not really believing where he was. Hermione turned so she was looking at him, a hand on his chest, open palmed. "What are we doing, Fred?"

"You were sad," he said. "I thought you wanted to be with someone." His face was stricken. "Not _with _someone, I meant, just…"

"I know what you meant," she smiled slightly. "But, like, aren't you disturbed?"

"Why would I be?"

She sat up. "Because you just found out I am actually millennium old. And in my past life I was You-Know-Who's lover."

"You're Hermione." He said simply, separating her hair and beginning to plait it. "You're the study mad, crazy, frizzy haired cutie that spends almost every Christmas with me. You're Hermione."

"I don't know if I am," she said, blushing lightly at his title of cutie. "What if I become different? What if I see Voldemort and I want to…?" Fred knew where this was going. "What if I don't remember who you are? What if I don't remember who _I _am?"

"I'll be here," Fred said quietly, patting the spot beside her. "I'll be here and I'll remind you."

"What if I don't remember?" Tears were streaming down her face now. "What if…what if…what if I hurt you…and he…"

"Hey," Fred said softly. He put a finger under her chin and lifted his face to meet his eyes. "Hey," he said again, gently. "We'll be fine. Promise."

Hermione sniffled and he pulled her down into a comforting hug. She lay there, crying all her tears, and airing all her fears cradled to Fred, his arms circled comfortingly placed around. She felt like they were in their own bubble and she would never have another chance to be so true. That after this, all she could do was stay strong and fall apart inside.

Hours later, Hermione was asleep and Fred sat staring through the window. He liked Hermione, sure, but could he deal with all this Voldemort stuff? Fred mentally slapped himself, God Fred; you can't just pick and choose what parts of a girl you fall for. You take all of it. He looked down at Hermione, and smoothed out the crease between her forehead that hadn't left, even in sleep.

Hermione woke twenty minutes later. Fred smiled at her and she sat up, rubbing her arms. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty p.m."

Hermione looked at his super kissable lips and sighed. Well, soon the shit was going to hit the fan. She might very well die, without her ever having kissed Fred Weasley. What the hey.

Fred saw an immensely determined look come over her face. He wondered what was…and then she kissed him. Hermione grabbed him impulsively, and leant up to plant her lips on his. She wasn't exactly afraid of rejection, since she was already in his bed.

They were both taken away with lust and excitement straight away. Fred's big hands slid around her back, under his rather large pyjama top that she was wearing and Hermione shuddered with pure pleasure. Her hands were fisted into his hair, and her cheeks were flushed.

She shifted and Fred clutched her to him as if he was never going to let go. They slid down into a mass of pillows, laughing and Hermione's hands travelled to his waist, exploring his shoulder blades and muscled back along the way. This was getting into dangerous territory, Hermione thought, as she realised they were horizontal.

"Hermione," Fred gasped.

Fred had to stop. He didn't want to go too far with someone younger than him. She was too young to know about such things. Not as in inexperienced, he didn't want to burden her with knowing.

"Mm," she answered, quite distracted at the moment.

"What the hell," Fred said, returning to his former task with renewed vigour.

Two minutes later he stopped again. "I can't…"

Hermione looked a him with understanding in her eyes. She'd read the romance novels.

"You're too young to…"

"I am technically millenniums older than you," she said practically. "And here and now, you are only one year older than me."

Fred laughed and Hermione kissed him again. They snuggled for a little longer and then Hermione lay down, her lips feeling swollen. She buried her head in Fred's neck, inhaling his distinct Fred smell, of peppermint, soap and boy. He himself had his face in her hair. "Mmm," he said slowly, as if on tranquillisers. "You smell like apples and freesia."

"You know what freesia smells like?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I like flowers," He said defensively. "It smells good."

"It's my shampoo," she answered.

Fred shifted, leaning her back against his front and his fingers began combing methodically through her hair, getting all the tangles out of it. "Oh, that feels good," she said drowsily. "Don't stop."

"I wont," he said quietly.

He plaited her hair, combed it out, plaited it and combed it out. The third time, Hermione had to say something. "Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry," she said almost regretfully.

"Okay," he laughed. He checked his watch. "It's seven thirty. They'd probably be at dinner. Want to go to the kitchens?"

"Sure," she said.

"I can introduce you to Betsy."

"The other woman?" she joked.

"Oh yeah," he said, ruffling her hair. "I go for short chicks."

"I'm not that short," she crossed her arms.

"Shorter than a Weasley," he shrugged on a shirt and buttoned it slowly.

"Shorter than a Weasley," she agreed, entwining her fingers with his.

Down in the kitchen, Fred was grinning, "Hermione, this is Betsy, my house elf friend."

"Oh!" Betsy looked so excited. "It has been so long since you brought a girl down here Mr Weasley. I was afraid you were getting lonely, spending more time here as you were."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Fred.

He shrugged, "What can I say? The ladies love it."

"This is your romantic date location?"

"Yeah," Fred led her to a table and Betsy fussed around her. "Anything for the lady?" she asked. "Eggs, perhaps?"

"Oh," Hermione said. "I couldn't let you do that."

Fred leant down to Betsy. "She thinks house elves should be set free, tell her, would you?"

"Set free?" Betsy looked out raged, and her skirt made out of a floral pillowcase quivered. "Set free? Madam, if you'll excuse me, but this is an honour!" Betsy drew herself up to her full height, "House elves, they love cooking. Set free, we would become layabouts, madam, Betsy is _proud _to work in the Hogwarts kitchens, house elves around the world, they envy this spot, ma'am."

"I'm sorry, Betsy," she said. "But don't you think…"

Fred cut in smoothly then, "Not to worry, Betsy, you go…clean something and I'll fix Hermione something."

"Goodbye, Miss Hermione," Betsy said, pretending to be polite, but as she walked away she was muttering grumpily and shaking her little head.

"Did I upset her?"

"I told you they don't want to be set free," he said, shaking his head.

"Okay," she admitted, leaning on her elbows, her chin in her hands.

Fred turned to look at her, a beautiful girl, her chin in her hands, and a calm, not placid expression on her face. He couldn't believe he had kissed her. He couldn't believe he was kind of sort of in a relationship with Hermione Granger. Pulling himself out of his reverie, he asked, "Eggs?"

"Scrambled?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. He made his way around the kitchen with ease and familiarity, cooking at the small stove with ease. Hermione watched his back dreamily, she could not believe she had actually kissed Fred Weasley. Ad that he had kissed her back. Was this even real? She watched him move around the kitchen with ease, enjoying watching him move surely, it was kind of _sexy, _to see Fred cook.

He handed her a plate and, not bothering to feel self-conscious, she began to shovel food into her mouth. "Oh. So good." She mumbled, through a mouthful of piping hot scrambled eggs. "Thanks."

"No problem," Fred said.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Presently, Hermione asked. "so, what is this?"

"This?" Fred asked, he knew what she was talking about he was just buying time.

"Us," she said.

"I like you," Fred said. "But I'm kinda wigged out by this whole Goddess thing."

"Uh, so am I." She cut in.

"But, you know," Fred shifted awkwardly. "We could give it a try."

Hermione decided to pay him back for earlier. "Give what a try?" she asked innocently.

Fred rolled his eyes. "I really have to say it?"

Hermione nodded, a devious smile upon her lips.

Fred came to kneel by her chair. He kissed her hand a took on a really bad French accent. "Will, you, 'Ermione Granger, go out with moi?"

Hermione pondered it for am second. "Okay."

Betsy watched them talk and laugh into the night, and she shook her head lovingly. That Mr Weasley and his girls, what a charmer.

Fred stood a few hours later and kissed her again, she wrapped her arms around him and they stopped long enough to say goodbye to Betsy and get back to the common room.

Hermione's only excuse for what happened next was that she was drunk on Fred Weasley.

Everyone had already gone to bed, so Fred and Hermione made themselves comfortable on the couch closest to the dying fire.

"Do you remember the night of the Yule Ball?" Fred asked, pointing at the armchairs they had sat in.

"Yeah," she answered, her voice sweet and quiet.

"What if people see us here?" she asked, warily, Fred had already shrugged his shirt off and she was curled into his side.

"We'll get up early," Fred said. "I promise."

"Okay," Hermione answered sleepily.

She put her head on his shoulder and he pulled a blanket over them both.

Hermione woke to a sea of faces murmuring quietly above her. Panicked, Hermione took in their situation. Fred was stretched out under her, she was curled up, half on his chest, half off and somehow the blanket had slid off them. Hermione squinted her eyes shut.

"Have they been here all night?" Someone murmured.

"They weren't here when we came in last night," Lee Jordan whispered.

"Maybe they were doing the dirty in a broom cupboard," Parvati suggested.

"Get your mind out of the gutter!" Ginny said. "that's my brother you're talking about."

"I know," Parvati replied. "Yum."

"Gross!" Ginny said. "He wouldn't like a tramp like you anyway."

Parvati had a shocked expression and Ginny poked her tongue out immaturely.

"Like Hermione would do _that." _Lavender sneered cruelly, back on subject.

Hermione burrowed further into Fred's side, wishing she never had to leave her warm sanctuary.

"Shh," Seamus said.

Hermione decided that was enough. She opened her eyes and nudged Fred gently. Fred opened his eyes and looked at the group of student's overhead, "Shit."

"we slept in," Hermione groaned, still lying there.

Then, as if anything could get any worse, Ron and Harry arrived.

"Hm," Ron said. "What's going on?"

The both pushed through the crowd, and what they saw pretty much explained itself. Hermione was pushing herself up from where she had been lying next to Fred and Fred, Ron's own brother, was wearing nothing but a pair of dark green boxers.

Harry stood there quietly, stunned at Hermione. Ron went white. "What," He asked shakily. "Is the meaning of this?"

"Ron," Hermione said, her voice high pitched. " I was…we were just…I…"

Fred started to speak as Harry shooed everyone away, "What she means, dear brother, is that we are in deep shit and have no explanation for you."

"Yeah," Hermione said faintly. "That."

A/N: the last two chapters have been difficult to write. I will explain a few things here.

**-kind of OOC. It is kind of hard to keep Hermione in character when she is in a vulnerable situation. Her character traits are less than vulnerable and I apologise if you feel she isn't really Hermione-ish in this chappie.**

**-Ron and the whole angry thing. I know he doesn't like her until sixth year, but I think it might have been in the back of his head all that time, and even if he didn't like her, he is still Ron Weasley, wont to overreact at the smallest thing. Not that this was small and his freak out may have been warranted in the situation.**

**-they were a little lovey-dovey and this chapter and if you hate that I apologise, but I had to establish their relationship soon other wise everything would drag on that much longer.**

**So, yeah. I'd love a review, thanks.**


	6. Trying To Explain

A/N: real short chappie. Sorry but its late, I'm tired and I desperately need caffeine.

Next chapter will be better; I just wanted to get this out there before tomorrow.

"Well try to explain!" Ron snarled.

Hermione sat up, trying to cover up Fred's broad chest with the blanket and her own body. His bare chest was for her viewing pleasure, _not_ Parvati's.

Parvati licked her lips from across the room and nudged Lavender, giggling. Fred shuddered and whispered, "They scare me."

"I don't blame you," Hermione murmured, curling her fingers into his fist.

Then Ginny had to throw something in, "Stop drooling, Patil. _Clearly, _he's taken."

"Um, Ginny?" Fred said. "So not helping."

Ginny shrugged, very blasé about the whole thing. "Put a shirt on," she said.

"Anyone?" Ron said, even more annoyed that he was being ignored. "Anyone going to explain this to me?"

"Why do you care?" Ginny, the Devil's Advocate, said flippantly.

"Ginny!" Fred, Hermione and Harry all turned towards her. "Not helping!"

Ginny raised her hands and put on her innocent little girl act. "What?"

All three shook their heads and Hermione tried to explain. "We had detention together and…"

Ron and Harry cut her off, "You had detention?" Harry said, stunned.

"With my brother?" Ron interjected.

"Yes," she sighed. "We hung out, we had eggs, we came back here, we talked and we must have fallen asleep." She decided not to mention the whole kissing thing. No need to make his head explode just yet.

"That's all you did?" Ron said, his face almost relaxing into what could be classified in the Not Grimace category. Then Hermione opened her mouth.

Okay, now Hermione was annoyed. Where did he get off, interrogating her like that? "No," Hermione said angrily. "Now I'll tell you the truth. We had detention, we hung out, we kissed, we had eggs, we kissed, he asked me out, I said yes, we kissed, we came back here, we kissed, we talked, we kissed and _then _we fell asleep."

Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times and he looked startlingly like a goldfish. After a few tension filled seconds he said, quit calmly for Ron, "I forbid you to kiss. I forbid you to go out with each other. Actually, I forbid you to ever talk to each other again." Though now his face was definitely heading towards the Grimace end of the scale.

Fred stood, "Ron, you're my little brother, and I don't want to, but if you tell me who I can and cant go out with I will forbid you talk. You want to know how I will enforce that rule?" Fred smiled almost sweetly. "With my fist." He clarified. Almost sweetly.

Hermione watched enviously as Fred dealt with the situation calmly. Then she stopped feeling envious and started feeling furious. "Ronald Weasley, you don't get to tell me what to do. I am my own woman and I will personally break every bone in your body ten times over with a baseball bat. Actually, scratch that, I will beat you to death with a crowbar. Clear?"

"You go girl! Doing it for the sisterhood!" Ginny crowed.

"Ginny!" everyone turned towards her, frustrated.

She rolled her eyes, these people needed to lighten up.

Ron opened and shut his mouth about ten times before collapsing into a chair and covering his face with his hands.

Harry started towards Hermione but she held up a hand. "If you know what's good for you, stay out of my way."

At that, the ends of Hermione's hair crackled and it seemed as if she were glowing gold for a second. Even Fred took a step back and he _knew_ she was the daughter of a Goddess. There was a crack that sounded like toned down lightning. She shook her head, the fire in her eyes was gone and she was just Hermione again.

"Hermione," Fred said tentatively.

Hermione felt her hair crackle, she felt, well it was almost like of ball of fire, fill her up and then she wanted nothing more to teach the ignorant red haired boy in front of her, Ron, a lesson. One that would stick, because he would be dead. She shook her head. That wasn't her, that was the powerful Violet Jean taking over her body. She shuddered and felt normal, until a second later when her brain was flooded with images, memories that weren't her's.

She saw Tom Riddle, kissing Violet. She saw Riddle take Violet's hand and they walked down an unfamiliar street. She saw Riddle and Violet dancing, happily laughing and kissing. Then it was as if she _was_ Violet. She knew she was in the moment the old photo had been taken.

Tom laughed, "Good photo!"

Violet giggled. "Sexy seductive," she pouted. "Or maternal mother." She gave a loving smile.

"A mixture of both," Tom answered. "Sexy mother."

Tom draped an arm around her and they smiled at the camera again.

Then they were at their house. Hermione/Violet was sitting on the couch and Tom was sitting on the floor beside her. His wavy dark hair sat just above his as he reached an arm up and tickled her stomach, his head resting on her arm. The contact made Hermione shiver, though he didn't seem to notice, "Baby's going to be beautiful."

With a shock, Hermione realised what it had all been about, Violet was pregnant. The words came out of her mouth automatically, "Baby will be gorgeous."

Then it was darker and Hermione knew it was the same night and got the impression Tom was prone to lightning quick mood swings.

Violet was crouched in the corner beside a blue upholstered armchair. "Don't, Tom!" she screamed, her voice was breaking and her thin arms tried to protect her stomach. "You'll hurt baby!" she cried pitifully and Hermione felt her heart wrench.

"I don't care!" Tom raged. "Baby will be as stupid and useless as it's mother!"

"No!" she screamed as a painful slap caused her to see stars

Tom started again, "Come out from there, you snivelling coward!"

Violet hesitantly crawled out from her hidey-hole and didn't see the plate coming towards her until it was too late. She watched blood drip down her arm, with tiny splinters of china sticking out of it and Hermione was wrenched back into her own body.

Fred was panicking. Hermione was in a ball on the couch, rocking back and forth, her hoarse voice screaming, "No! Tom, not the baby!" over and over again.

Finally she quieted, though she still rocked back and forth sobbing quietly.

Fred hesitantly rubbed her back. "You okay?"

Hermione raised her tears streaked face and her eyes focused on Fred, slowly realising who he was. "I need to see Dumbledore." She said quietly.

Fred helped her stand and kept a hold on her because she was unsteady on her feet. Once they got out of the common room, the rest of the people staring after them, Fred had to ask.

Before he got the chance, Hermione spoke, "She was going to have a baby."

"What?" Fred asked.

"I got a rush of memories from Violet. They flooded my brain and I saw, or I was her, and I knew she was pregnant."

Fred hugged her to him and the contact made Hermione cry all over again. Not in a bad way, but it was just really comforting to know that someone cared enough to stick by her.

Dumbledore was in his office, thank goodness. "Professor," Fred said thankfully. "She needs your help."

"Violet," Dumbledore said happily, "what a pleasure it is to see you this fine morning."

"Don't call me Violet." Hermione said shortly.

"Ah." Dumbledore inspected her sad face atop of his half moon glasses. "Of course. Now, what seems to be the problem?"

The words came tumbling out of Hermione; she explained how sometimes it was like watching a movie and how other times it was like she was Violet.

"Hm," Dumbledore said. "It seems your body has recognised who you are and is trying to remind you of your former life."

Hermione was angry and frustrated. "I don't want this! I didn't choose this and I don't want to be Violet! I don't want this power! I don't want to be burdened with knowing about what Tom did to Violet! I especially don't want to look at Tom Riddle and feel…" she struggled with the words. "Love…or some illusion of lust and infatuation!"

Fred took a step back, involuntarily. His face was curled into a grimace and he wasn't sure what he would do if Hermione decided she loved You-Know-Who. Could they survive that? Their relationship was still new and Hermione having feelings for the greatest Dark wizard of all time may cut their honeymoon stage short.

"It isn't an illusion," Dumbledore said quietly.

Hermione flopped into a chair, without waiting for an invite. Se figured they weren't going to get further on that subject. She was what she was, and she felt what she felt. Twisting her hands in her lap, she asked, "Why didn't she use her powers?"

"Why?" Dumbledore asked. "Because she loved him. Violet somehow believed the goods outweighed the bads. She loved him and she wanted her a baby to grow up in a conventional family."

"But…" Hermione said.

"It isn't unnatural for women to stay with abusive men, if they are pregnant and wanted their baby to have a normal childhood." He adjusted his glasses. "I mean, there aren't too many examples to compare to, but human beings crave security and some form of normality."

Hermione nodded quietly. "If it happens again," Dumbledore said kindly. "Find Mr Weasley and come to me." He turned to Fred. "You weren't supposed to get muddled up in all this but now you are I'm glad Miss Granger has someone to talk to."

Fred nodded and Dumbledore dismissed them.

"It was horrible," Hermione said to Fred as they sat cuddled up in a window seat up in an abandoned tower of the castle. "I could remember who I really was and that you were there and I lo-liked you. But the rest I was just obsessed with Riddle." She shivered and Fred wrapped his arms tighter around her. "I never ever want to feel like that again."

It was eleven in the morning but it was chilly in the tower. Fred conjured up some pillows and a fluffy mink blanket, settling it over them.

They sat still as stone for a while until Hermione reached up and kissed him passionately. "Are you sure?" He asked, his lips still against her's. "I mean, you just…"

"I want to forget," she told him, her voice and eyes sure.

She kissed him again and he felt warm inside. He wasn't entirely sure that they were kissing for the right reason but hey! He was a boy and this was kissing, it's not like he was complaining.

**Oh!!! Hermione/Violet, which one's which and who is she with Fred? *gasp***

**Hope you like, review please!!!**


	7. More Like Luna Than We Thought

**A/N: Its been ages, I know and this is the first update of the New Year. And I am so sorry about that!!!**

**Enjoy, and also, review if you want me to keep writing or not!! **

"This cant keep happening!" Fred said exasperatedly.

Hermione was rocking back and forth in a tightly rolled ball on Fred's bed, tears running down her face, gut-wrenching sobs being pulled from her body, her hands covering her face, as if to protect herself.

They had been, well, Fred wasn't going to lie, fooling around on his bed when Hermione had sat straight up on the bed, her eyes glassy. It was like she had had a fit really, when Fred knew she was stuck in Violet's body again. It was the fourth time in two weeks this had happened and Fred was seriously worried now. The first three times he had honoured her wishes of not being taken to Dumbledore, because, Fred personally thought the old bat wasn't really helping. But now Fred was in too deep and he didn't know what to do.

"I'm fine," she whispered, her voice rasping. She tried to sit up but then gave up, flopping back on the pillows.

George just then arrived. "Hey, Fred, Hermione." He studied her face for a second. "My God, are you okay?"

Hermione sniffled. No one was supposed to know about this. "Is Fred's kissing really that bad?" George asked, his eyes shining.

Fred playfully punched him on the arm, trying to distract him. "I'm going," George said. "You lovebirds can get on with all your hanky panky." He waggled his eyebrows. "_I _have a _date._"

"With whom, dear brother?" Fred asked.

"Angeliiiina," he said in a sing song voice.

Fred gasped. "She's my…"

George and Hermione raised their eyebrows. "She's your _what?" _Hermione asked in a dangerous voice, all Violet stuff shoved to the side for the moment.

"Cast-off," Fred said weakly. "She's my cast-off." He cast around with his eyes to find something other than Hermione to look at.

"I'm sure," Hermione said sarcastically, at the same time that George said, "What? I'm not allowed your cast-offs, now?"

"She's not my cast off, alright?" Fred said. "I took her to the Yule Ball and then _you_," He narrowed his eyes at his twin, "stole her."

Hermione looked at him placidly. "Well," Fred said defensively. "You went with Krum didn't you? I saw you talking to him the other day."

Hermione crawled over the covers and pillows to wrap her arms around Fred's neck. "Kidding," she said laughing. "Just kidding."

Fred sighed. "I can never tell with you, I mean you're always so serious."

Hermione's eyes glittered dangerously and Fred gulped. "Okay do-over," he said shakily. "How about we just kiss?" He suggested nervously.

"Fine," Hermione said, turning her head to the side for a peck on the cheek.

Fred kissed her cheek awkwardly and Hermione laughed. "Kidding," she said again. "Kidding."

"God," George said. "You have got to stop hanging with this chick, Gred. You've lost your touch!" he chuckled jokingly.

Fred glared at him. "Forge," He said warningly. Then he waggled his eyebrows as if to say, 'go off to your date now.'

"Well," George said, sensing he wasn't welcome anymore. "I'm off to my _date."_

He waggled his eyebrows once more, and departed.

* * *

The next morning Fred and Hermione strolled down to breakfast with all eyes on them. They may have been going out for a few weeks, but they didn't spend much time in the public eye, and still, who could get over the bookworm and the joker having a civil conversation, let alone a full blown relationship?

They sat down at the table, getting breakfast from the plates in front of them. Fred opened up his books. "Snape's going to kill me," He said glumly. "I haven't done homework for the past three weeks and he said if I didn't get this essay in on time he was going to curse my…" he gulped. "Well, let's just say, it wouldn't be pretty."

"Can they do that?" Hermione asked disinterestedly as she flicked through the paper.

"I don't know," Fred said dramatically. "It could be an empty threat but whose taking the chance? And after all, it is Snape."

"Alright," Hermione acquiesced. She opened the textbook and said, "I'll help you. Just. This. Once."

"How can you help me with Advanced Potions?" Fred asked stupidly. "You're a fourth year."

Hermione took the book out of his hands and browsed through. "Because I read ahead. And I actually study," she said casually.

"I study," Fred protested.

Hermione looked at him with one raised eyebrow.

"Sometimes!" He said defensively.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"Never," Fred looked down, "have I once opened a textbook in my life."

"That's right," Hermione patted his back condescendingly. "So help from a fourth year is probably all you can handle."

"Alright," he said gloomily.

Hermione took the parchment and read fro m it. "So when you said you hadn't finished it, you meant…"

"All I wrote was my name and the topic," Fred hung his head in shame, not used to being guilted into feeling bad about not doing his homework.

"When is it due?"

"First class after breakfast," Fred said.

Hermione sighed, "I'll write this one," she told him wearily. "But only this once because you're desperate and it's Snape, but this is not the format tutoring is going to take."

"I know," Fred sighed, sullenly flicking through his Potions textbook.

"Hi!" Ginny said brightly as she took a seat beside them.

"Hey," Hermione and Fred greeted her. Hermione sat scribbling frantically as Fred looked over her shoulder, a hand involuntarily on the small of her back.

"Aren't you guys cute?" she said sweetly. "You're all couple-y."

"Gee, thanks," Hermione said dryly, her eyes glued to the page as her hand raced across the parchment, scrawling nearly illegible words.

"Well, must dash." Ginny said shortly, standing up.

"Where's Ron?" Fred asked innocently.

"How should I know?" Ginny said a little too quickly. "I'm not his keeper."

Ginny strolled off and as she disappeared from sight Fred said, "And Ron should arrive in five, four, three…"

At three, Ron walked into the Great Hall casually.

"How did you know?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"Weasley thing," he told her. "Ginny was coming to scope out the situation."

Hermione leant back into Fred's chest and held his hand. "Moral support," she told him.

Ron stopped a metre in front of them, his hands trembling. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he stalked down to the other end of the table without saying anything.

"Hi, Ron!" Fred called cheerily. He held up a platter. "Eggs?"

Hermione slammed his arm back down on the table and the eggs slipped off the plate on to the table. "Shit!" She cursed very un-Hermione like.

Parvati and Lavender giggled and winked at Fred as they walked by. He shuddered, and looked the other way.

"They frighten me," Fred whispered.

"Well, they annoy me!" Hermione exclaimed.

She kept writing, her forehead creased and Fred watched her quietly, finding her adorably adorable when she concentrated.

Ten minutes later, she handed him back half a roll of parchment. "Read over it," she instructed.

"I'm sure its fine," Fred soothed her.

"That's not why I want you to …" Hermione sighed as she checked her watch. "I have to go."

"What?' Fred asked. "Classes don't start for another … 15 minutes."

"I have Arithmancy," she told him. "I have to get to the North Tower."

Fred grimaced. "I'd walk you, but … classes start in 15 minutes."

Hermione smiled. "I know."

Fred kissed her lightly on the lips and Hermione felt like the prettiest girl in the room as she walked away with Fred staring after her, Lavender and Parvati sighing with envy, and Ron and Harry staring after her in shock.

* * *

That Arithmancy class, Hermione actually had trouble concentrating. Professor Sinistra walked over and peered down at Hermione, who was staring out the window, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Are you alright, Miss granger?" She asked worriedly.

"Hm?" Hermione jolted back to earth. "Oh, I'm fine, just, you know…" She trailed off dreamily, and Hermione was shocked to hear herself sound more like Luna Lovegood than any other person at that moment.

"Alright," Professor Sinistra nodded and walked away. She didn't want to punish Hermione as she always paid attention and perhaps it was time she needed a break.

Though she did give a long winded sigh in the next ten minutes, for whenever she turned back to Hermione, she would be staring out the window, her parchment empty of any work.

**Review please!!!!**


	8. When Draco Malfoy Doesn't Back Down

**A/N Hey everyone! Been ages and I apologise. My life has been crazy lately but I promise to update more often now that I have a clearer more stuctured idea of where the story is going! Read on!**

Hermione Granger and Fred Weasley sat down by the lake on a cool spring day. Hermione wore her shirt sleeves rolled up and her tie loose, looking very blasé. Fred's shirt sleeves were also rolled up and they sat on his jumper, she was resting between his legs, looking out over the still lake, the sun shining brightly on their faces. They were extremely calm and carefree these days, as if they weren't going to acknowledge the Violet issue if it didn't come up.

"This is the life," Fred sighed. He relaxed and leant back against the trunk of the old oak behind them.

"Yep," Hermione answered drowsily.

Just then, Fred curled up his fingers and poked them into her sides, tickling her.

Hermione writhed and kicked, sliding down onto the grass, screaming with laughter. "Stop! Stop! Fred, please! No!"

"What's the magic word?" Fred teased, holding her legs down.

"I said the magic…!" Hermione began breathlessly. "Aaagh! Stop!"

"Okay, okay," Fred let her go and stood. "Sorry." He said calmly, stepping backwards slowly, getting ever closer to the lake.

Hermione, caught up in her mock fury didn't do a quick mathematical equation she probably should have involving Fred, herself, and the Black Lake.

She gave a scream, "Fred Weasley, I will kill you!" Then she charged at him, tackling him around the waist.

A few onlookers cheered as both Hermione and Fred tipped into the lake after rolling down the gently sloping grassy hill.

At first there was a lot of thrashing around, until a very drenched brunette head popped out of the water, laughing and frowning at the same time. Then she gave a squeal as she was lifted on to Fred's shoulders and his very wet, very red head popped out of the water.

He was chuckling and Hermione tapped him on the head. "You planned that to a tee, didn't you? Didn't you?"

"I may have," Fred admitted, shrugging, which was very difficult when you had a girl on your shoulders.

She slid off his shoulders and stood in the waist deep water, arms crossed. "Sorry," Fred shrugged again, still trying to conceal a smile. "It was funny though."

"Sure," Hermione said. "I'm so. Going. To. Get. You. Back." She squealed, and with each word she splashed him.

After frolicking in the slightly dirty lake water for a little longer the couple emerged, soaking wet, and dripping everywhere.

At that inopportune moment, when Hermione's white shirt was see-through and her lacy turquoise bra was on display for everyone to see, Ron and Harry walked around the corner and saw the scene in front of them.

Harry had the decency to avert his eyes, and he grabbed Ron's arm to pull him back round the corner, but Ron simply stood there, staring. "Ron," Harry said desperately. "Come on." He didn't want to think about what would Hermione would do to Ron if she saw them there.

Ron shook his head as he was walking around the corner with Harry. "So she's showing off her … under clothes, to anyone within a 100 metre radius? Where did Hermione go? My brother is ruining everything!"

Harry just shrugged. He didn't know what to say.

"I mean, how dare he?" Ron growled. "She hasn't done her homework in a week and she's out there just … chilling! When did she ever do that with us?"

Harry shrugged again.

Ron shook his head. "WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING?" He exploded before storming off.

F+H

Hermione and Fred meanwhile, were passionately embraced in a little make out session, which all started because Hermione mentioned the fact that she was cold.

"Warm now?" Fred asked, just a little breathless.

"Yeah," Hermione breathed softly.

She shivered once and felt a bit strange as she looked out over the grass. A rather peculiar sight caught her eye. She saw a young boy, first year most likely, pleading with two older boys, who had hoisted him and his books into the air, so he was the same height as the tree.

"Oh my," Hermione whispered. She pushed Fred away and began to storm over there.

"Hermione," Fred tried. He was happy to stop the older boys from bullying the younger one, but Hermione stalked over like she had blood and war in mind, and with her newly strong powers, who knew what could happen?

"Hey," She shouted angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She yelled, her dripping wet hair framing her face, her eyes dark and stormy.

"Just having a little fun," None other than Draco Malfoy drawled, flicking his wand so the boy spun over in the air, letting out a scared cry.

"Get him down from there," Hermione said, her voice deathly quiet.

"And what will you do about it?" Malfoy taunted.

Fred stepped in. "Uh, Malfoy, I really strongly suggest you let him down _gently_ now."

"Oh yeah, Weasley?"

"Yes," Fred said feverishly. He hated Malfoy but that didn't mean he wanted Hermione to murder him in front of about 50 onlookers who had stopped to watch the scene unfold.

"Well," Malfoy cocked his head to the side as if he were thinking. "How about … no!" He laughed cruelly.

"I warned you, Malfoy," Hermione said, her voice still quiet and calm.

Hermione's eyes seemed to blaze bright blue for a moment, before reverting to their natural brown, and Malfoy was suddenly on the grass, writhing around, swatting at assailants that weren't there, screaming in pain at flames that no one else could see. It was horrible, and Fred really wanted to look away, but he couldn't. It was like a train wreck, and he was sicked. Sicked by the look of excitement and pleasure on Hermione's face.

The crowd around them gasped at the fourth year doing extreme wandless magic, and the boy screaming on the ground, looking as if he was under the power of fifty strong Cruciatus Curse's. Fred, for something to do, moved the boy who had been bullied out of the way and ran up to Hermione.

"Stop!" He pleaded. "Please, Mione, just stop! He isn't worth it! You can't kill him,, just … just stop."

Hermione straightened up and resumed an expression of cool sophistication, but to his amazement, Fred realised they both had tears streaming down their cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered quietly before dropping to the ground.

The scene before the onlookers was a strange one. Fred Weasley, comforting the small first year, Draco Malfoy, ashen faced and unconscious, and Hermione Granger, cool collected Hermione Granger, sobbing on the grass.

And then Professor McGonagall arrived.

**Oh! Hermione's startng to go crazy...continue reading please, I promise it should all go right in the end.**


	9. When Fred Weasley Loves Someone

**A/N: Its been forever. I know. You hate me. Let me know though a review! Maybe you'll forgive me after you read this chapter?**

"What is going on?" Her strong Scottish burr cut through the anxious murmurings of panicking students who didn't want to be caught at the scene of the crime.

And then Colin Creevey stepped forward. "Well, Professor," he said earnestly. "It happened like this. I was walking by on my way to – "

"Oh, shut up Colin!" Fred groaned. "We really don't need this right now," he said firmly.

"Mr Weasley," McGonagall reprimanded. "Continue, Colin."

"Well, like I said Professor, I was walking my on my way to the library, because I had to return a book, see and – "

"Ahem," McGonagall cleared her throat. "Can anyone _else_ tell me what just happened?"

"It was me," Hermione sobbed, getting up from her place on the ground. She gestured at the unconscious Draco Malfoy. "I did it."

"Miss Granger," McGonagall gasped. "Mr Weasley, I have to help Mr Malfoy. Take Hermione to Dumbledore's office _at once."_

Fred nodded and led Hermione to Dumbledore's office at a near run. He personally, found the whole debacle disconcerting, and while he liked Hermione, a lot, he wasn't sure that the foundations of their relationship were strong enough to withstand this next test. Really, it had only been a few weeks, and already they were facing larger than life problems.

As Fred impatiently waited for the gargoyle to spin around and open the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Hermione hand snaked around him and held onto his shirt, so she was looking right into his eyes.

"What's happening to me?" She rasped quietly.

Fred couldn't look away, even though he wanted to. "I don't know," He said softly, before averting his gaze and entering the office, shouting, "Professor! Professor! Where are you! It's Fred Weasley and Hermione Granger, sir!"

The wingback leather chair spun, and Dumbledore peered at them over his glasses. "I'm an old man, Frederick." He said wearily. "And I was taking a nap. What can I do for you today?" Then he seemed to notice the state of Hermione, bedraggled and crying. "Oh Merlin. Sit, sit." He urged.

Fred sat in the other chair after he settled Hermione. "She just sort of exploded," Fred said after Dumbledore urged him to explain. "Then she got really calm, and then she … did something to Malfoy, so he was, like, fighting people that weren't there, and being burnt by flames that didn't exist." Fred's voice was haunted as he explained it, his eyes dark and guarded.

After Fred finished talking, Dumbledore stood. "Come, children. We need to go to the Hospital Wing."

After Madam Pomfrey gave Hermione something to make her go to sleep, Dumbledore began to walk away, his face grave. "Professor," Fred gasped, jogging after him.

"Mr Weasley," Dumbledore replied. "What may I help you with?"

"How do I deal with this?" Fred spread his hands helplessly. "I'm a teenage boy who wanted a pretty girl for a girlfriend. And I'm a Weasley twin. It's not like I'm great with the heavy stuff. How do I deal with it? I don't even know if it's all worth it!"

Dumbledore put a hand on Fred's shoulder, his eyes understanding, which was a good sign, because Fred felt like a monster. "Frederick," He said sympathetically. "I understand you. This will be hard and at times it will seem like its not worth it."

"But…?" Fred began.

"Don't stay with her, if you do not love her, Fred." Dumbledore continued. "Go somewhere and think about whether you are with her because she has no one else, or because you love her. When she faces Lord Voldemort, she needs love by her side, not a Weasley twin trying to do something chivalrous."

Fred nodded. "Thanks Professor."

"Is she worth it?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

Fred looked solemn. "I think I'll have to go and work that one out, sir."

Dumbledore clapped him on the back and left briskly. Fred looked around at Hermione's sweet sleeping face, and considered going to sit with her until she woke up.

But then he headed into the corridor. He needed to go somewhere quiet, and lonely, where he could think about what he wanted.

Fred headed out to the Quidditch field, and grabbed his broom from the cupboard where they Gryffindor team kept theirs.

He flew swiftly and high in the air, enjoying the quiet and calm, nothing but the wind in his hair. Did he love Hermione? Did he want to stay with her? Was what he loved about her enough to keep them together? Did he know her well enough to decide if he loved her?

First, Fred thought, he would start with what he loved about her. Fred loved the way her hair looked in the morning before she brushed it. He loved the way she looked in his boxers. Or any of his clothes really. He loved the way she tried to teach him, and get him to do his homework. He loved how committed she was to freeing the house elves. He loved her passion. He loved her anger. He loved the way she threw things at him when he interrupted her late night study sessions. He loved the way they could talk about anything with each other. He loved the way she knew how to make him feel better. He loved the way they teased each other. He loved the way that nothing else seemed to matter as long as she was happy with him.

Fred Weasley thought about all that for a few minutes, and then realised, that, in his mind, that was what made up love. Love is all of that. In their case, anyway. And that was all that mattered.

It didn't matter that Hermione was having issues, sometimes had really bad PMS, and had to defeat Voldemort eventually. As cheesy as it sounded, love conquers all. If they had that, then nothing else mattered.

Fred flew back to the ground as soon as he could and raced up to the castle. George stopped him on the way. Fred barely stopped. "Where are you going?" George asked.

"I'm going to tell the girl that I love that I love her," was Fred's response, and then he was off again.

George whistled. "I really hope he's talking about Hermione," he said to himself as he continued on his way. "Or else she's going to be _really_ pissed."

"I heard that," Fred yelled, panting as he continued running. "Speaking of which, we really need to join a gym or something. I think I'm dying."

George ignored him as he turned the corner. "How is that a speaking of which?" He asked incredulously, rolling his eyes.

**Review please! I swear, reviews are a direct relation to the speed of my updates!**


	10. When Hermione Loves Someone

**A/N: Hey, this chapter was uploaded much quicker. Gotta love me right? When I update, I really update!**

Hermione lay there pretending to be asleep as Harry sat with her, and Pomfrey bustled around the room. She didn't feel like she could deal right now, and she needed some time to mull things over.

If there was one thing Hermione wasn't, it was stupid. She saw the look in Fred's eyes this morning. He was running scared. The reason he wasn't here was because he was running scared. He couldn't handle the heavy stuff. Because, after all, he was a Weasley twin. They were there for the light and fluffy, but the serious, was too, well, serious for them.

Hermione knew all he had wanted at the start of this was for another girl to hang out with. He chose her because he knew her already and had probably run out of other girls to go out with him. That was okay; she tried to convince herself of that anyway. She may have had stronger feelings for him, but she tried to conceal him. All Weasley's were afraid when it came to love. Well, she actually thought it was just a boy thing. That wasn't what bothered her. What bothered her was that he'd stuck around for so long.

Fred felt an obligation to protect her, just because he was the only one who knew so far. So, Hermione strengthened her resolve. No one else was going to suffer for this Violet thing, she decided then and there. Fred had to go. He could go back to hanging out with George and Lee, and being a stud, and the school jester. All the stuff she knew he enjoyed and pretended not to miss when he was with her. She loved him, with pretty much all her heart, and she knew it sounded stupid because they didn't know each other all that well.

But she loved the way he looked when he flew his broom to the window of the girl's dormitory and snuck in. She loved how he pretended to listen to her teaching him potions, and then kissed her on the neck until she forgot they were supposed to be studying. She loved the way he pretended to be sorry when she got mad at him. She loved the way a kiss and a gigglefest caused by him could make her forgive him instantly. She loved the way he wasn't afraid to show everyone they were dating. And she loved how he did stupid things like make her fall in the lake all the time.

It was all the stuff Hermione Granger usually hated, but adored about Fred. Which was why she had to let him go. She turned over, still pretending to be asleep, knowing that if she opened her eyes she would cry.

Panting, Fred stumbled into the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey gave him a disapproving look at the amount of noise he was making, but he brushed it off, and went over to the bed where Hermione was lying asleep.

Harry was sitting there, a hand on Hermione's wrist. "Dumbledore told me," Harry whispered quietly.

"Looks like you guys are the only hope of the wizarding world. No pressure," Fred joked weakly.

"I'm so worried," Harry said softly. "She's not coping."

"Maybe she would be if you were talking to her," Fred said with more sharpness than intended.

"Maybe she would be if you hadn't taken Hermione right out from under Ron's nose." Harry said, his tone unchanged.

"She doesn't like him," Fred said. "I tried to please everyone, and then I realised what was the point? She's happy with me, and I'm happy with her. Ron just needs to lick his wounds. He'll come round eventually."

"I suppose," Harry said. "I was trying to get him to talk to Hermione again, but he wasn't having a bar of it."

"I'll talk to him soon," Fred sighed. He wouldn't be surprised if he came out of that 'talk' with a broken nose.

"Yeah," Harry snorted. "We'll have to put him in a cage for that 'talk.'"

Fred rubbed his nose. "I was almost resigned to having it broken. I think it would look kind of good crooked."

"No, it wouldn't," Hermione's weak voice floated up to them. "The only one who can pull it off is Viktor."

"I'm insulted," Fred said.

"Don't be," Hermione said, struggling to sit up. "I like you with a straight nose. And I'm not letting you within a hundred feet of Ron to get it broken."

"That'll make holidays a bit awkward then," Fred observed.

Harry grinned, before letting go of Hermione's hand. "I heard," he told her.

"Got any secrets you want to share with me about defeating Voldemort?" Hermione joked.

"Try your very hardest not to get killed," Harry said. "That one usually works for me."

"That's not how it looks Harry old boy." Fred said. "Many think you have a death wish."

"Oh," Harry said. "And don't believe anything anyone says about you and you situation. It's all crap."

Hermione smiled slightly. "I know how you feel now, Harry." She said softly. "And I'm sorry if I was ever insensitive about it."

"You were alright," Harry smiled a bit. "It was Ron that was the problem."

Hermione gave him a look. "Well," Harry said. "I'll be off."

So Harry left and they sat in silence for a few minutes before Fred got up the courage to begin the speech he rehearsed while running up to the Hospital Wing.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Fred?"

"I have something to tell you." He began.

"So do I," She whispered. A tear dropped from the corner of her eye, and Fred felt his stomach sink into his Chuck Taylor's. He knew this was going to be bad.

"What," he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking, "would you like to tell me?"

Hermione scooted forward on the bed and took his large calloused hand in her small delicate one. "I think," She told him. "That I might possibly maybe love you."

"Well," Fred started.

"Please stop talking," Hermione requested, tears dripping down her face. "It's only making it harder."

"Okay," Fred said, taking a deep breath. "Shoot."

"I also think," She said softly, her voice shaking, "that we should break up."

**Aww, poor Fred. Reviews peoples! They are my lifeblood, I needs them!**


	11. Scone and Potions

**A/N: Quick update, as promised. Sadness though. I'm sorry for getting angsty on you, but it had to be done.**

"Could you repeat that please?" Fred said, trying on a laugh. He always did have no idea of timing when it came to humour.

"No," Hermione whispered back.

"Why are we breaking up if you love me?" Fred asked confusedly. He was a boy, so he knew he missed stuff sometimes, but this was like reading a mystery book backwards. Freaking confusing, man!

"You need to go be you," Hermione said, a sob in her voice. "You're staying with me, was because you were the only one that knew about the Violet issue. Now, Harry knows, so I'm beating you to the punch!"

"Beating me to the punch?" Fred asked, mystified.

"You need to hang out with George and be the funny men, and make everyone laugh, and be a stud, and have a contest with George about how many girls you can get and whatever else it is you did before I came along. I know that you stay with me out of some desire to be chivalrous, and take care of me, but I don't need it," Hermione insisted. "Just go be what you were before we were us."

"Nothing," Fred said desperately. "I was nothing before you came along, Hermione. Do you not understand that?"

"No!" She shouted. "I don't understand that! You need to have a life, you need to be somebody. You can't do that with me! I'm sorry."

"Is that what you want?" Fred asked.

Hermione thought about shouting _NO! Of course that's not what I want. Stay, you ginger idiot!_ But she didn't. He had to have a life, and she was somehow going to defeat Voldemort so he could have a normal life.

She kept silent, and saw him go from upset to angry. Good. That would be better for them. Easier to get over each other when you hated each other, right? "Fine," He snapped, storming out.

The massive door to the Hospital Wing slammed with a final bang, and Hermione relaxed her tense muscles. She had no idea where Madam Pomfrey was, but she knew she wasn't staying here anymore.

Grabbing her shoes, she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, awkwardly, meeting Fred going back the exact same way.

"You should still be in the Hospital Wing," he said gruffly.

"I'm fine," she said coolly.

They reached the portrait, and both died a little inside. The Fat Lady was gone. "Shit," Hermione said. "What time is it?"

"Ten p.m." Fred said shortly.

"Bloody hell," Hermione sighed. "She's gone for the rest of the night, I bet you."

"Super." Fred said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm not sitting around doing nothing," Hermione said firmly. "I'm going to find some blankets or something." Then her stomach rumbled. "Actually, I think I'm going to find some food."

Fred smirked. "Come on then," He offered, prepared to take her down to the kitchens.

"I think I might just wait and see if she comes back," Hermione said sulkily, averting his eyes.

"You know what?" Fred asked, his voice rising. "I'm as upset about this as you are, but don't go turning this on me! You broke up with me, so I've lost total control of this situation. You have all the power, do with it what you will."

And so, Fred began to storm off down the corridor. Hermione laid her head back against the wall, and groaned. "I hate my life."

Fred returned ten minutes later, with a tea towel full of scones with jam and cream. It was apricot jam, Hermione's favourite. He handed her one wordlessly, and she smiled her thanks, licking cream off her fingers.

As he spread their little picnic between them, Hermione spoke softly. "I'd like it if we could be friends."

"So would I," Fred said quietly. "But … not now. Not yet." He didn't think he could live with this girl in such close proximity to him without her being his girlfriend. He just couldn't handle that yet. He took one more scone from the tea towel, stood slowly, and looked down at her with dark eyes. "I think I'm going to go for a walk."

And with that, he began to walk down the corridor. "Fred," Hermione said, almost desperately. "It's dark. I know you don't want to be friends but could you at least stay?"

"Sorry." That one word broke Hermione's heart. So as she was left alone in the dark, with seven scones lying next to her and she wanted her friends. But unfortunately, they were in the common room. So, she'd settle with a trip to the library.

Pushing the door open silently, she crept into the library, and caught sight of a light over a desk at the back. Tip toeing forwards, she saw a mane of shaggy red hair. "Ugh," the boy groaned.

As Hermione inched closer, she saw he had ink all over his fingers and face, and that it was Ron, struggling with Potions homework once again.

"Ron," Hermione whispered, sending the boy flying out of his chair.

"Oh," he said, relieved, and then his voice soured. "It's only you. What do you want?"

"To help you," Hermione tried.

Ron said gruffly. "I don't need any."

"Okay," Hermione said softly, starting to walk away.

"Hermione," Ron jumped up. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm … sorry for the Yule Ball thing, and the whole dating my brother thing. I'm happy for you and Fred. Really."

"We broke up." Hermione said the words calmly, and then sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

"You what?" Ron said, shocked. He rushed over and led her to a chair. Patting her back, he comforted her. "It's all right, its okay. It doesn't matter. He's a prick anyway."

Hermione let out a huge hiccupping sob/laugh. "Thanks Ron," she said, clutching his hand.

"That's alright," he smiled gently, and returned her squeeze of his hand.

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